It’s just after midnight, and I am writing this in the school library. Actually, I am chugging Monster Zero and eating red pepper slices in an effort to stay awake on almost no sleep, and writing this to aid that effort. You see, I currently live in a house with 5 other people. Each floor is basically its own apartment, with a shared laundry room in the basement, where I live. Of the six of us living there, we are evenly split between male and female occupants: two girls on the top floor, two boys on the main floor, and one of each in the basement. The walls are a little thin, so we three girls (who have lived there the longest) have always kept the noise down to a minimum.

The boys, however, are having a bit of trouble with this.

Apparently, in their own little world, consideration for others is a little ass-backwards. I can put up with some of this just fine. I don’t mind that my pots and pans are now being kept in a cardboard box in the kitchen, because they’re just not pretty enough to display elsewhere. The afternoon country music sing-alongs are almost becoming bearable. And the fact that one roommate has so much crap crammed into the laundry room that it’s almost impossible to manouver in there is barely a blip on my radar anymore.

What does get to me, then?

The boy I share the basement with has just discovered depressing quasi-goth radio rock from the early 2000’s. His favorite at the moment is Evenescence. I have been woken from a sound sleep in the early morning hours more than once by Amy Lee asking me to wake her up inside (Inside where, she never quite specified. But wherever it is, it must have soundproof walls, because she is freaking wailing in there). For the most part, he saves his musical teen angst for late mornings and afternoons.

Not last night.

In a house full of students, this boy decided that not only was 3am the absolute perfect time to blast his goth-like wailings, but it was also the ideal time to have a sing-a-long with his female friend. At least, I think they were singing. They may have had two cats having angry sex in there, or a flute shoved insides a trumpet shoved inside a trombone. Either way, somehow they thought that Sunday night, with Monday morning’s sunrise just a few hours away, was a completely appropriate time to treat his 5 housemates to this.

Let me tell you now; it totally was NOT.

I do have Monday’s off at the moment while I search for more work and attend classes the rest of the week. I had a rather lengthy to-do list, though, and had planned to get an early start on it. If I could doze off a little after 1am, I could sleep in and STILL be up by 10am to shower, shit, and shave before I started my day. Thanks to the roommates outdated musical stylings and out of key warblings, this did not happen. Instead, I was kept up until just after 4:30am, at which point I somehow passed out from exhaustion and lack of iPod battery (Candy Crush Saga helps me sleep). I awoke at 8am to text the boyfriend before his morning class……. and then was awakened again just after noon by a text from him. This broken sleep resulted more in a zombie-like state than a productive and happy blogger.

So now, here I sit in the University library. I have had my limit of Monster for the day, and am now sipping on some Diet Pepsi to stay awake. The research I had planned for today is half done. My cleaning never got started. Hell, I didn’t even straighten my hair today. I would go home and get a bit of sleep before my 11am class tomorrow, but I’m waiting for pure exhaustion to set in. Then, maybe I’ll be able to sleep through whatever the roommate decides to sing along to tonight.